The Heir
by Lord Malthon
Summary: Hogwarts has two new teachers from the United States. One has Harry slightly worried. Is this new professor a Dark wizard? PostHBP. HPGW, GDOC, with some RWHG undertones. This is my first fic, and it is not your typical fluff, so please read and review.
1. Prologue

_A/N: I own nothing. just had to say that so that if I get sued, I will know it is because of that other "unfortunate" incident. _

**The Heir**

**Prologue**

Harry Potter jumped out of bed quickly. The clock on his bedside table read 11:59. One minute until his seventeenth birthday. He could hardly believe it. He would be leaving the Dursley's forever in one minute. He got dressed quickly and grabbed his trunk, broom, and, of course, Hedwig. The owl hooted excitedly. Harry raced downstairs to find Lupin there waiting for him. Harry handed Lupin his trunk in silence, as Harry did not want to wake the Dursleys. Lupin stepped into the fire with Harry's trunk and broom and said quietly, "12 Grimmauld Place."

Harry looked around him and thought of all the memories he was leaving behind. Here was the living room, where just last summer Albus Dumbledore had talked to Harry's Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon about Harry's future with them and revealed that on Harry's next birthday he would be leaving them forever. Harry smiled inside as he remembered another memory, this one from the summer before his fourth year. Fred and George Weasley had slipped Harry's cousin Dudley a "Ton-Tongue Toffee" making his tongue swell to an enormous proportion.

And there was the kitchen where he had first heard of Sirius Black, though at the time he had not thought much about the escaped killer, who had turned out to be his godfather. From his position in the living room, he could see the door to the cupboard under the stairs that had been his home until he was almost eleven. He took a step towards the still green fire and turned around for one last look at his home of sixteen years. Thinking of all he had been through in this house, he unzipped his trousers and urinated on the bleached white carpet before stepping in to the green flames.

_The first few chapters aren't great, but it will get better. Now review, or bad things will happen..._


	2. The Order

_A/N: I own nothing. Do not sue me. It will just be a waste of your time._

**The Heir**

**Chapter 1**

**The Order**

Harry's first week at Grimmauld Place was fantastic, despite being a little depressing. Ginny had been writing to Harry back and forth over the summer. She had convinced Harry to get back together with her. He had been reluctant at first, saying that it was too dangerous.

"Harry, you say its too dangerous because if one of Voldemort's followers found out about us, they would come after me to get closer to you. But he probably already knows. Snape knew about us. Remember your detention, he said something about how he knew you'd rather be doing other things. So there's no point in us being apart."

After that letter, Harry could no longer argue. So, most of Harry's days were being spent with Ginny. They helped Mrs. Weasley put together Bill's wedding at the Burrow, which was being protected by several Order members and Aurors to add to the numerous spells already protecting the residence. Harry enjoyed spending time with the Weasley's particularly Ginny, though they got very little private time together.

The Weasley brothers took shifts watching Harry and Ginny. Of the six, Bill and Ron were the most lax in their duty, allowing the couple some private moments, which were not wasted. Fred and George, however, constantly remained by the pairs side. Their antics made for good laughs, though, which kept Harry from any semblance of anger. Charlie spent most of his shift bombarding Harry and Ginny with possible Quidditch tactics for next season. Harry had yet to tell the family of his plans to not return to Hogwarts. He wanted to first run it by Lupin.

Two days before Bill and Fleur's wedding, Order members started flooding into Grimmauld place. They obviously had a very important meeting, because Harry had never seen this many before. They took up the entire kitchen and living room of the house with no room left for walking. Finally, Mr. Weasley had the wisdom to move them into the spacious ballroom. They clustered together in small clumps. Harry soon realized, with humor, that they were in cliques. Kingsley, Tonks, Moody, and several others Harry guessed were Aurors were talking in low voices. Hagrid, Madame Maxime, who had greeted Harry with a bone-crushing hug, Lupin, and Firenze the centaur were discussing Ministry regulations on "half-breeds." There were other groups of wizards and witches speaking languages Harry did not understand. He had had no idea there were this many foreign wizards working for the Order. Last, but not least, a clump of at least twenty Goblins were talking to Bill. Harry guessed he must have finally convinced them to join our side.

Lupin broke up his conversation abruptly and called for silence, his voice magically enhanced. "I now call to order the 377th meeting of the Order of the Phoenix." Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny made their way toward the door, but were stopped by Mr. Weasley.

"You four may stay. This meeting concerns you as much as any of us." Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Mrs. Weasley glare angrily at her husband, but did not protest vocally. Harry felt guilty for a moment, but the guilt was quickly replaced by excitement.

"As you all know, this is the first time since the founding of the Order in 1972 that the entire Order has met at once. At that time, there were only seven members, including founder Albus Dumbledore. Of those original seven, only four remain: Minerva McGonagall, Rubeus Hagrid, Arabella Figg, and Alastor Moody. We had no reason, until Dumbledore's death to risk having all of our members at the same place at the same time. At this time, however, it is imperative that we elect a new leader. We will begin with initiating four new members. Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ginerva Weasley, and Harry Potter have all been considered for entrance into the Order of the Phoenix. We will now take a vote. All those on favor raise your right hand and say "aye"." Almost every hand went into the air. "And all opposed by like sign." Only Mrs. Weasley had any argument.

"Alright, if the four of you would please come forward. Kneel, please. Do you Harry James Potter agree to fight Lord Voldemort with all your power, to protect those he tries to destroy, to do whatever it takes to secure that our world remains safe for every person and creature, both magical and non-magical?" Lupin had a large smile across his face.

"I do."

A white light emerged from Lupin's wand, encircling Harry, then disappearing. He repeated the process with Ron, Hermione, and, finally, Ginny. Mrs. Weasley was in tears, but Harry tried to ignore her. He knew she had good reason to cry, all seven of her children now being in the Order of the Phoenix, willing to die for their cause. Harry just wished she could handle it a little better.

"Alright, now for the reason we came today. I now open the floor for nominations for leader of the Order of the Phoenix." A contemplative silence fell over the members. Harry knew what they were thinking, for he was thinking the same thing. Who could replace _the _Albus Dumbledore.

"If only we still had James Potter." Harry looked around, as did everyone else in the room to see who had said this. It was Moody. "He woulda been as good as Dumbledore."

"Or Sirius," muttered Professor McGonagall. "They were two of the best wizards I've met."

"Don't forget Frank Longbottom. Best Auror the Ministry's ever had," added Kingsley Shacklebolt, his shaved head gleaming in the candlelight.

"My first choice would have actually been Severus." Harry looked around to see Lupin staring intensely at the ground. " He was Dumbledore's most trusted confidant, after all." A gloomy silence fell.

" I nominate Remus Lupin." Harry did not know what had urged him to say this, but he had said it, anyway.

"I second the nomination." It was Mr. Weasley. There was a general murmur of consent. "All in favor say "aye"." No one was opposed.

"Well, I guess that settles that, then," said Lupin cheerfully. " Now, on to further business." He went on with descriptions of Death Eater movement in certain areas, for which he used a map of England, where most of the activity was taking place. He also mentioned incidents in Ireland, Greece, Switzerland, and France. In France, the main problem was with Giant activity. They talked of different assignments, including finding guards to protect Hogwarts. By the end of the night, Harry was ready to take every assignment he could get.

At the end of the meeting, Harry cornered Lupin. "Congratulation, Professor."

"Thank you, Harry."

"There is something I need to tell you," Harry started. Lupin suddenly seemed anxious. "I'm not returning to Hogwarts. There's too much work to be done with the Order, as well as work to be finished. Work started by Dumbledore."

"I'm sorry, Harry, but as your legal guardian, I will not allow you to leave Hogwarts, no matter what your motivation may be." Lupin was uncharacteristically stern as he said this.

" Well, I'm sorry Lupin, but since I am now of age, I may do as I please."

"Well, then Harry, as your leader in the Order of the Phoenix, I command you to stay at Hogwarts as a guard, while taking all the classes you would take as a normal seventh year. After you complete your N.E.W.T.s, then, you may do as you please." There was no argument. There was nothing Harry could do. He was legally bound to do whatever the Order instructed him to do.

"Fine."

"Harry, I wouldn't do this to you without reason. I have already arranged for you to start taking courses with two new instructors. They are Order members from the southeastern United States. They will be teaching at Hogwarts this upcoming year. They are two of the best wizards I have ever met. If they can do what I think they can, you will be unstoppable."

_Now review, so that I will know you read the story._


	3. Weddings and Weasleys

_A/N: I do not own Harry Potter. I know, shocking._

**The Heir**

**Chapter 2**

**Weddings and Weasleys**

Bill's wedding was picturesque. Ginny and Gabrielle were bridesmaids, along with four witches Harry assumed were friends of Fleur. They were dressed in elegant robes of a soft, golden color that shimmered in the warm summer sunshine. All six Weasley brothers, including Percy, were groomsmen. They were dressed in matching black dress robes, with red bow ties to match their flaming red hair. The wedding was held outside of the Burrow, near the paddock where Harry and the Weasley's played Quidditch. Several Order members were in attendance, including Lupin, Tonks, and Moody. Employees of the Ministry were also there, including Rufus Scrimgeour, looking very dignified in robes of a deep blue. On the bride's side there were many elegant-looking women accompanying rather stately-looking men. Much to the chagrin of Hermione, many of these women appeared to be Veela, or at least have Veela blood. Many men were having trouble watching the ceremony, including all five of Bill's groomsmen.

The wizard doing the ceremony was old and feeble, barely speaking at an audible level. The vows in the Wizarding wedding ceremony were identical to those of a Muggle wedding, but there was a chalice filled with blue flame that would glow red after every line. It was quite magnificent. All the vows were said in both French and English so that both sides of the family could understand what was being said. When it was all finished, everyone made their way to a large area that had been filled with tables and chairs for the reception. Some live entertainment had been provided, and they played both the Wizarding and Muggle music. Harry danced a few times with Ginny, but they mainly sat, talking, eating, and watching Bill and Fleur. They appeared to be a match made in heaven, with neither one being able to take their eyes off the other.

Harry informed Ron, Hermione, and Ginny of Lupin's instructions. Ron and Ginny seemed disappointed, but Hermione looked rather relieved. "So Lupin said you would be taking extra lessons with these two new teachers. Sounds like it should be fascinating." Harry hoped she was right. He wondered if they were really as good as Lupin claimed.

Ron and Hermione left to go talk to Bill and Fleur, leaving Harry and Ginny to talk amongst themselves. They discussed what they thought Harry would be learning. It was agreed upon that Occlumency and Legilimency were musts. Wandless magic was also probable. Ginny figured that it would be like Auror training, with emphasis on defensive spells and fighting techniques. She also imagined that Harry would be learning the Dark Arts, so that he would at least know what he was up against. Harry doubted that they would teach him anything, well, evil.

Fleur's younger sister Gabrielle came over a little while after Ron and Hermione had left. "Eet eez you! Ze real 'Arry Potter! I cannot believe it! Eet eez, 'ow do you say, honor to meet you at last."

"It is nice to meet you as well." Gabrielle kissed him quickly on both cheeks, and Harry blushed crimson. She was about thirteen, but looked much older. She was already very pretty, and the Veela blood was even more apparent in her than in Fleur.

"I 'ave wonderful news. I will be attending 'Ogwarts this year. As Madame Maxine 'as decided to work full-time fighting 'E-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Beauxbatons eez not very well protected, I am afraid. All my friends are going to ze uzzer school in our country, but Mama thinks eet will be good for me to attend 'Ogwarts."

"That's great," Harry was able to get out breathlessly. She kissed him again on both cheeks, and again he turned the color of Ginny's hair. Thinking of Ginny, Harry turned to her, half expecting her to be furious as Hermione would have been. Instead, she seemed to be suppressing laughter.

"It's alright, Harry. She's a thirteen year old Veela. No man could resist her. Veelas have natural charms that are about equal to that of the Imperious Curse. But when they are just hitting puberty, it is about three times as strong."

About an hour into the reception, Harry and Ginny decided to "take a walk." On the way, they passed Ron and Hermione, hidden in a patch of bushes. Once they were out of earshot, Harry and Ginny could not help it any more. They laughed until it started to hurt. When they finally settled down, they found that they were inches apart from one another, laying on the soft grass. They decided that Ron and Hermione had the right idea.

_Now, I command you to click the review button. But don't just click the button, type some words, too._


	4. On the Train

_A/N: Once again, I own nothing. I will update within the next week. _

**The Heir**

**Chapter 3**

**On the Train**

September 1 arrived much too quickly, in Harry's opinion. He had been having a lot of fun with Ginny. They spent their days either exploring the Black estate or staying in the ballroom. Ginny was attempting to teach Harry to dance. He was not _terrible, _per se. It was just difficult to concentrate with Ginny. She was so beautiful.

Harry sometimes joked with her that the only thing that rivaled her beauty was the ballroom itself. The ceiling was enchanted like the one at Hogwarts, but this ceiling was enchanted to always show a clear night sky, which made for a very elegant backdrop. Around the room were portraits of Black family's from over the centuries. On the very end of the wall furthest from the door was a portrait of Mrs. Black, her husband, a pompous-looking man with straight black hair, and their two sons. It must have been taken right before Sirius had left home. He looked just as the Sirius in the Pensieve had looked, with short, dark hair and a goofy, lopsided grin.

Beside the family portrait was a case filled with mementos from Regulus Black's life. There was a magical picture of him with his mother and father at his graduation from Hogwarts. Another picture of him as a young man, laughing with friends. There was his wand and other magical devices, similar to the ones in Dumbledore's office. There were several awards that had been given to him throughout school. He had been a prefect for Slytherin and had played chaser on the House team. A copy of both his O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. scores revealed that he had obviously been an excellent wizard, receiving O's in Transfiguration, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Ancient Runes. There were also certain personal items, jewelry, journals, and such, in a box with the Black family crest.

Harry did not know why, but he would spend hours at a time looking over Regulus' things. Maybe it was just the fact that Harry saw a lot of Sirius in his brother. The only picture in the entire house containing Sirius was that family portrait. Harry had decided to make it his personal mission to put up something similar to this for Sirius.

As Harry clambered into the Ministry car with Ginny, Kingsley and Mr. Weasley, he thought about this being his last time going to Hogwarts. He wondered to himself where he would live after graduating. Grimmauld Place would be one option, but he was not sure that was where he wanted to live. Ginny seemed to pick up on his thoughts.

"I cannot imagine what it would be like living here all the time. I just about went crazy when we stayed her that whole summer. You can tell that Dark wizards lived there for centuries." Harry had to agree with her. Since he had started studying Legilimency, he had been able to pick up on certain magical signatures. When Mrs. Weasley performed a spell, it left a pleasant impression in the room, almost like the smell of cinnamon. A more powerful wizard, like Moody, would leave a stronger impression, not as pleasant and cheerful, but not bad. Some rooms in the Black house, however, left Harry feeling physically sick. It was obvious that in nearly every room there was some trace of Dark magic.

The most evident place being Regulus Black's study. It was linked to one corner of the library by a plain black door. It was a simply furnished room, with no windows or paintings. There was just a singular desk facing the doorway and a few old books written in a language Harry could not understand. There were obvious traces of Dark magic. The first time he had walked into the room, he nearly fainted and had had to lie down for several minutes.

In addition to his ability to feel magical signatures, Harry was also able to read people. He could look at a person and tell the amount of evil that person contained. It was rather amusing to look at how people really _were_. How they really thought and felt, what there actual _soul _was like. It was very interesting.

Take the Weasley's for example. Mrs. Weasley was, as you can imagine, almost entirely good, with merely a trace of evil that sparked up when she was angry. Ron was entirely good. Sappily good. There was no evil in him. Mr. Weasley and Charlie were much the same way. Bill was closer to Mrs. Weasley, with a thin vein of evil that occasionally sparked up, though his more often sparked up when whispering to Fleur.

Ginny and the Twins were mainly good, but all three had a bit of evil here or there, just enough to be mischievous without actually wanting to harm anyone. Percy was very good, but he had a large vein of evil, filled with ambition and fear. Fear of failure, which can really be considered another form of ambition. He was a good-person overall, but if he wanted something enough, he had no problem running over everyone in his path to achieve his goals.

Lupin was confusing. He was almost entirely good the first time Harry had tried to read him, with only a small essence of evil buried deep inside of him. But as time went on, the evil seemed to grow. And this wasn't playful evil like the twins, or evil driven by ambition with Percy. Those seemed to have reasons behind them, as well as limits. Lupin's evil was _pure. _It was as if the evil just came there naturally. Harry presumed that this had something to do with Lupin being a werewolf. Just to prove his point, after the full moon (during which Harry could feel the hunger radiating from Lupin), Lupin's evil was back to a normal proportion.

At the station, they were met by Ron, Hermione, Lupin, Tonks, Mrs. Weasley, Moody, and several other Order members. Bill and Fleur were there with Fleur's parents and Gabrielle. They all waved heartily. Gabrielle and Fleur's mother seemed apprehensive about her youngest daughter being so far from home. Their father, however, saw Harry and immediately strode over.

" Montague Delacour. It is an honor to finally meet you." His English was flawless, as was most everything about his dress and carriage. He was wearing a dark gray suit with a navy blue necktie. His bangs were short and brushed neatly to one side. He had no facial hair, not even stubble. "I would like to talk to you briefly. If I may, Arthur." Mr. Weasley nodded, seeming a little suspicious. "Now, Harry, I assume you have met my daughter, Gabrielle." It was a question more than a statement. Harry nodded, feeling there were no words that could answer that particular question without lengthening the discussion. "She is a wonderful girl. Wouldn't you agree?" Again, Harry simply nodded. "She has just turned thirteen, which means the Rites will begin this year-"

"What rites, sir?"

Mr. Delacour laughed genially. "The Rites of Passage. All daughter's of Veela and part-Veela must go through them. You must have heard of them?"

"No sir, I can't say that I have."

"Well, I will briefly explain them. All Veela and part-Veela must go through several rituals before they reach the age of fourteen. The first four are merely incantations and the such. The next two are trials. They must prove their magical ability. The last is different for different girls. Oldest daughters, like Fleur, must swear to carry on the legacy of the Veela, promising to have at least two children and spend their lives raising their children. They are not allowed to have jobs, they must just be stay at home mothers."

"That sounds terrible." Harry hoped Hermione never heard about this.

"Eh. Most enjoy it. It is in the Veela blood, that need to protect their children, to be with them as often as possible. Both my wife and Fleur have no problem with just being mothers. They are just thankful that they were not youngest daughters."

"What do youngest daughters have to do?" Harry asked, wondering what was worst than having to give up all of your dreams of having a career.

"Before their fourteenth birthdays, they must be betrothed." He finished the sentence and then stared at Harry expectantly, waiting for him to speak next.

"Er...and what happens if they do not get betrothed by their birthday?" Harry was trying to put off the question he knew Mr. Delacour was waiting to ask next.

"They die," he answered bluntly. "So, would you be willing?"

Harry inhaled deeply. "I'm sorry, sir. I can't." Harry half-expected Mr. Delacour to be angry. Instead, he seemed sad.

"It is fine. I just, well, Arthur said you are immune to the effects of the Veela. I don't want Gabrielle to be with someone whom she can't even carry a normal conversation with." Harry nodded, then he had an idea.

"If you would like, I could try to help find Gabrielle a, erm, would suitor be the correct word?"

Mr. Delacour chuckled lightly. "I do not think Gabrielle would appreciate me getting outside help in finding her a husband."

"Well, we just won't tell her then." Mr. Delacour pulled Harry into a bone-crushing hug and would not stop thanking him. Harry's first impression of Mr. Delacour as being an upright gentleman was as broken as his ribs.

Harry and the others were escorted by the Order members to the train. Mrs. Weasley looked as sad as Harry had ever seen her. "Oh! Ron, I can't believe that this will be your last time going to Hogwarts. Oh my babies just aren't babies anymore. I remember your first time to see the train, when Bill left for the first time..." Mrs. Weasley continued muttering to herself incoherently for quite some time. Mr. Weasley said she would be inconsolable for the next few days. She had, apparently, done the same thing when her other sons had gotten on the train for the last time.

Harry said goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and all the other Order members who were not going to be stationed at or around Hogwarts. "Hey, Potter," growled Moody, " Say hello to your new professors for me. I met 'um at that last Order meeting. Good chaps, seemed like to me."

"I'll do that, Professor." With one last wave to everyone, Harry and Ginny went to find a compartment. Harry, deep in conversation with Ginny, barely noticed the stairs of his fellow students as he walked the length of the train. In the last compartment, they found Neville and Luna, sitting in companionable silence, Luna reading the Quibbler (this one with a story on the secret marriage of Lord Voldemort and the Yeti), while Neville stare out of the window. With his new Legilimency skills, Harry could tell that Neville was thinking of his first train ride. Harry thought back to his own for a moment: meeting Ron and Hermione, who were now his best friends, as well as Draco Malfoy, who Harry had thought of often since that fateful night when Dumbledore had died. Malfoy had been instructed to kill Dumbledore. He had brought several Death Eaters into the castle to lead the attack. He was the reason Dumbledore was dead. Thinking about this, Harry's insides burned with anger. "Malfoy will pay for what he did to Dumbledore," he thought to himself.

_"But Malfoy did not kill Professor Dumbledore. Snape did," _said a small voice in Harry's head.

Harry was broken out of his angry contemplation by Ginny's greeting of Neville and Luna. They both replied their hello. Harry, Ginny, and Neville started a discussion of Quidditch tactics for the upcoming season while Luna kept reading the Quibbler. About an hour into the train ride, Ron and Hermione returned from the prefects' compartment. They had been selected as Head Boy and Girl by Professor McGonagall, who was the new Headmistress. Both looked rather flustered.

"Because of all the Ministry regulations on owls, we have had to pass out O.W.L. results to all the sixth years," stated Hermione breathlessly. " You would not believe how many started yelling at Ron and me, as if it was our fault they only got an "Acceptable" in Transfiguration. Here Luna, Ginny."

Ginny had received O's in Transfiguration and Charms, as well as E's in Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, Ancient Runes, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Luna had received O's in Charms and Herbology, with E's in History of Magic, Transfiguration, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts and Care of Magical Creatures. Both received A's in everything else.

"Wow, those are better than mine," remarked Harry.

"Not where it counts, though." Harry looked around and was surprised to find that it was Luna who had spoken.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, your the only one who got an "O" in Defense Against the Dark Arts. With the way things are now, that is really the only class that counts. It is the most important thing we can study at Hogwarts. Your "O" could be the difference between life and death for hundreds, maybe thousands, of people."

This was one of those uncomfortable things Luna would say. Harry knew she was right. "Probably more than she knew she was right," he muttered to himself. He just could not, for the life of him, get his head around the idea that he could be the savior of mankind.

Before things could get too awkward, however, a brash looking fifth year, sporting a Ravenclaw prefect badge opened the compartment door, holding, four rolls of parchment. He handed one each to Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville. As Harry had expected, they were invitations to have tea with Professor Slughorn. The four slowly made their way to the end of the train Slughorn held these little get-togethers.

"Harry, my boy, good to see you, good to see you," roared the Potions Master. "Ginny, Hermione, Neville, always a pleasure. Would any of you like some roast duck?"

"Not right now."

"Not hungry."

"Got to save room for the feast."

"Harry, I've got two people I would like for you to meet. These two gentleman are from the U.S. They've transferred here to finish their education, _while teaching_. Can you imagine?" He motioned towards two figures standing at the back of the room while dragging Harry by the elbow. "Mr. Shockley, Mr. Holden, I would like to introduce you to Harry Potter."

Shockley stepped forward first. He was nothing like Harry had pictured the person who was to train him to fight Voldemort would look like. He was Harry's age, with short brown hair. He was a little stocky, not unlike Charlie Weasley. Harry had expected a killing machine. He seemed pleasant, like the kind of person that was so nice that everyone thought he was a little weird. Harry could tell through his heightened awareness that this guy had no evil in him. He had a very peppy attitude, from what Harry could surmise. " It is an honor meeting you Harry, really. The name's Thomas Shockley. I'll be teaching you Transfiguration this year, what with McGonagall bein' Headmistress now. I'll miss Dumbledore. Only ever got to meet him the one time. Excellent man though, really excellent. Oh, and this here's Holden."

" Silas Holden." He nodded curtly at Harry as he shook his hand. If the first one was weird, this one was scary. He was proportioned like Thomas, but on a much larger scale. He stood at about six-foot four, with wide shoulders and thick legs. Harry did not know whether or not you would call him chubby. He was stout, but not so much fat as just big. He did not smile but stared intently at Harry, his eyes boring into Harry's eyes.

" He's scarier than Snape," Harry thought to himself. Holden radiated a magical intensity that made Harry a little dizzy. "How am I supposed to survive classes with this guy, let alone have extra lessons? I can't even read him without getting nauseated."

" Well, it's...er... Nice meeting both of you, Professors."

"Oh, please Harry, call me Thomas," laughed Professor Shockley, uh, Thomas. His voice had small traces of a southern American accent.

" You may keep calling _me _"Professor" if you like," muttered Holden dryly. For the first time Harry saw him smile. It was not so much a smile as a sneer, revealing large, slightly yellowing teeth. Their was no real happiness, just a sort of sick humor. It disturbingly reminded Harry of the hungry, almost animal-like smile of the young Tom Riddle. He shuddered at the thought.

For the rest of the train ride, Harry could not get his mind off of the two new student/teachers. Thomas was talking congenially with Hermione about, what else, House Elves. Harry could here him saying "Well, I like your spunk, but House Elves are gonna be House Elves, and there ain't nothing' you can do about it." Silas merely rolled his eyes. He obviously considered such idiotic thought like _changing_ House Elves as below him. Harry could not imagine anyone thinking they were _above _Hermione. He remained quiet, however, choosing not to comment.

"What do you think of these two new professors," said a voice in Harry's ear that Harry recognized as belonging to Ginny.

" Well, the shorter one, Thomas, is nice enough, though he seems a little on the weird side. And Silas is just scary."

"I'm telling you, Harry," commented Neville, who was standing to his right. "Gives me the willies."

" You know who he reminds me of," whispered Harry, so that only Ginny and Neville could hear. "He reminds me of Tom Riddle, when he was in school."

" But Harry," muttered Neville, "is-isn't, well, I mean, You-Know-Who, his real name is Tom Riddle, isn't it. Is that who you're talking about?" Harry nodded darkly.

"He's not as fake as Riddle was, either," Harry continued forbiddingly. "Riddle did terrible things in school, but presented a respectable face. This Silas guy seems like he would kill you and brag to your mother about it. I don't trust him."

_Okay, if no one reviews, I might just forget about updating. You heard me. As if this fic really matters that much to you that you cannot bear the thought of living without it._


	5. The Sorting

_A/N: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, I would not be writing this story and begging for reviews. I would be swimming in a pool filled with jello._

**The Heir**

**Chapter 4**

**The Sorting**

Harry relayed to Ron, Hermione, and Ginny his feelings of discomfort when speaking to Holden on the way up to the castle. Ginny seemed concerned. Ron seemed confused. Hermione didn't buy it. What else was new?

" Really, Harry, we can trust him. He's a teacher _and _a member of the Order, like us."

" So was Snape," Harry muttered darkly. "Listen, Hermione, studying Legilimency has heightened my awareness of people. I can tell how strong a witch or wizard is and how much good or evil they have in them. His power is so strong I can't even get near enough to him to even read him. But I get the distinct impression of Dark magic. There's almost a _smell _about him it's so thick." Hermione did not argue any more, but seemed rather put out. She did not say another word until they reached the Great Hall.

The Great Hall was in its finest. Thousands of floating candles were lit around the room. The ceiling showed the clear autumn sky. At the staff table, Professor McGonagall was sitting in the middle chair where Harry had seen Dumbledore sit so many times before. He realized now how much he had taken for granted with Dumbledore. He tried to shake his head of the thought as Professor Flitwick, the new Deputy Headmaster led the trembling first years into the hall. Harry almost laughed as he saw Thomas, Holden, and Gabrielle, Fleur's little sister at the back of the line. Thomas was talking animatedly with some of the new students, including Gabrielle. Whatever the conversation was, he sure was into it. His hands were all over the place making wild motions that Harry doubted he could understand if he were listening to the actual conversation. Holden was watching the entire seen as if he was bored.

Professor Flitwick started reading the names of the first years. "Alice Aferton" became a Ravenclaw. The next student "Matthew Bolton" became the first Gryffindor. It went on and on until there were only the two new seventh years and Gabrielle left. Professor McGonagall stood and made a motion with her hands to indicate that the students should be quiet. Silence quickly fell over the hall. " I would like to introduce the entire student body to our three new students. Gabrielle Delacour is the sister-in-law of former Head Boy Bill Weasley and sister of Fleur Delacour, who all you older students remember from the Triwizard Tournament. She joins us from Beauxbaton Academy. We also have two new seventh years who join us from the Marleaux Wizarding School in the southeastern United States, located in the swamps of Louisiana, outside of New Orleans. In addition to their studies Mr. Shockley will be teaching Transfiguration and Mr. Holden will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. They will now be sorted."

Gabrielle went first. She was a greenish color as she placed the Sorting Hat on her head. It seemed to think for a few moments before shouting "Gryffindor." She took off the hat, positively beaming, and took a seat next to Ginny at the Gryffindor table. Harry decided to read Gabrielle and found that she was mostly good, but with a thick vein of evil, thick enough to rival the twins. He thought of the promise he had made with Mr. Delacour- it would not be hard finding someone who would be interested in Gabrielle. It would be nearly impossible, however, finding someone who would not drool in her presence. As he looked around, the entire male Gryffindor population seemed to hang on every word she said in the conversation she was having with Ginny. Ron, who was sitting closest to her, had his mouth wide open and was shoveling air into it with his fork. This was especially odd because their supper had not even appeared yet.

Thomas was next. He sat on the stool for about twenty seconds before the hat shouted "Gryffindor." He immediately jumped down from the stool and proceeded to run around the room, waving his arms around wildly as if he had just scored the winning goal for England. This would have been funny in itself, but the humor was multiplied ten fold by the fact that the Sorting Hat was still covering his eyes. His celebration only ended when he tripped over the stool the Hat was supposed to be placed on. He stood up quickly, not a hint of embarrassment on his face. He took off the Hat, and ran down the aisle between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, giving high-fives to anyone who was willing. Harry swore he saw McGonagall mutter " What have I gotten myself into?" Holden walked forward with a loping grace that did not fit his size. He stood the stool upright and sat down serenely. The hat had barely touched his head before yelling "Slytherin." McGonagall turned quickly to Hagrid, her eyes wide with shock. Thomas, who was sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table, looked as if someone had punched him in the gut. Holden stood and flashed his disturbing smile at Thomas, mouthing "Told ya." he took his place at the Slytherin table in between Pansy and Crabbe, both of whom seemed a little intimidated. They leaned away from Holden and seemed to have trouble continuing their previous conversation.

Professor McGonagall started off the feast with the usual start-of-term speech. All products from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes were still banned, as were love potions, which Professor McGonagall said they would now be taking special precautions against after last years "incident." Thomas, upon hearing this, yelled at the top of his voice " That is one story I have _got _to hear." The students snickered appreciatively until McGonagall gave them a stern look. She gave the rest of her speech and the students were allowed to eat.

Harry looked to the end of the table where Thomas was regaling Parvati and Lavender with an obviously funny story involving a Muggle riding lawn mower. They were giggling even more than usual. They were obviously taken with the new professor. Harry turned around to see Holden deep in conversation with the Bloody Baron. Even the ghost seemed to shrink away from him slightly. Harry did not trust this new teacher. Not at all.

Harry stayed with Ron and Hermione, who were showing Thomas the way to Gyffindor tower. Hermione was asking Thomas questions about where he came from. "Marleaux is in Louisiana, right. I have heard that that area is filled with magical beings. Even some of the Muggles know magic, don't they."

"Oh, yes, the area around the school is steeped in Voodoo tradition. It is a powerfully magical area. The swamps are filled to the brim with magical creatures. Some are pretty dangerous. Kind of like the Forbidden Forest is here. I think Holden's the only one stupid enough to go in there. Or, rather, powerful enough."

"So what is it like to live in an area so overflowing with magic?"

" Well, I've never actually been around the area much myself. Just the plantation grounds. Now, the plantation, that's a magical place right there."

"So, you don't live in Louisiana."

"Nah, me and Holden's from out in the boondocks of Mississippi. Marleaux's just the closest school. There's one in Tennesse, but that's a bit too far."

"So, are you and Holden friends?" It was Harry asking this question.

"Oh yeah. I've known Holden my entire life. He only lives 'bout a minute down the road."

When they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Thomas stopped, turning to Harry. "Can I have a word with you before we step inside?" Harry agreed, and Thomas led him a little bit down the corner. "I don't know if that Lupin fella' told you, but Holden and I were asked to come here to help train and protect you for this war. We were both supposed to be in Gryffindor," his face started to turn a pinkish color. "Lupin said that since he figured we would both be in Gryffindor, it would be better if we got sorted, so as not to draw even more attention to ourselves. Holden tried to tell us he wouldn't be a Gryffindor and it would ruin the plan. But we just assumed, knowing him..."

" I could have told you he would be in Slytherin the first five seconds I met him. There's something _dodgy _about him. There's a darkness to him."

"Of course there's a darkness to him! He's one of the scariest fucks I ever met. But he's a noble guy, really. He'd give his worst enemy the shirt off his back if they really needed it. As long as they weren't Muggleborn."

" Don't tell me the Order has sent someone that might as well be a Death Eater to train me to fight Voldemort!" Harry was impressed that Thomas did not flinch at the name, but it was not his main concern at the moment.

" He's not a Death Eater. He _hates _Voldemort, Holden. More than anyone I've ever met. He just thinks that those that are purebloods are naturally better than those that aren't. But he doesn't really hate anyone. Look at me. I'm one of his best friends, and I'm a half-blood. Don't go judging him before you get to know him."

Harry doubted he would ever like Holden. "Anyway, good night, Harry. I've got a class first thing in the morning. First years," he said rolling his eyes humorously. Before he could get to the portrait hole, however, Harry stopped him.

" Hey, Gabrielle Delacour, you're not affected by her are you?"

"Should I be?"

"Yeah, she's part-Veela. Anyway, if you're really not affected by her, then maybe I could set you two up on a date sometime. Maybe the first Hogsmeade weekend?"

Thomas contemplated this for a moment. "Well, I'm probably a fool to turn down a date with a Veela, but I got to. Got a girlfriend back in the States who wouldn't like that too much. Anyways, are you the Boy Who Sets Up Dates, now? Wait, wait- The Chosen Matchmaker. No! The One Who Conquered the Blind Date." Thomas laughed heartily at his own joke.

"Good night, Thomas."

" See you tomorrow then." As Thomas retreated through the portrait, a more familiar face came down the corridor. Harry grabbed Ginny and wrapped her in his arms.

"Rough day, Harry."

"Why do you say that?"

" Cause I'm about to lose the ability to say anything if you keeping holding me this tight." Harry snorted and released her slowly, staring into her chocolate eyes.

"Come on, lets get inside while we can."

_Now, I command you to review_


	6. Classes

_A/N: If you hadn't already figured it out, I own nothing. In fact, I live as a hobo, hopping from train to train, gambling, drinking, and writing Harry Potter fan fiction. Not a bad life if I do say so myself._

**The Heir**

**Chapter 5**

**Classes**

Harry was enjoying his classes as much as he ever had. Harry had potions on Tuesday and Thursday mornings, and even though they were more difficult without using the Prince's book (Harry had burned the book over the summer; he wanted nothing to do with Severus Snape), he still remembered most of the tips from the book. If any drop in Harry's performance was noticed by Slughorn, it was not mentioned. Slughorn spent most of the class pestering Thomas, who was even better at Potions than Harry had been last year, if that was possible, and avoiding Holden. Harry had seen Slughorn nervous before, but never as badly as he had been when he had first come into close contact with Holden. "And this is a man who taught Lord Voldemort himself," Harry added to Hermione, who was arguing with Harry about whether or not Holden was evil.

"It is strange, Harry, but Holden is a member of the Order. If you have any doubts you should ask Lupin-he would know," she commented, watching Slughorn ease out of Holden's line of sight. Harry realized she was right (about asking Lupin, anyway) and Harry decided to try to communicate with him via the Gryffindor Common Room fire as soon as possible. He sent him a letter by Hedwig, asking him to "check his fire" the following Friday at 11:00 p.m. Lupin replied with a yes the next day.

On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, Harry had no classes with the two new teachers, but was taught by both. These were their teaching days. The only classes they took were Potions, Herbology, and Charms, and these were Tuesday/Thursday classes. Thomas explained it to Harry before his first Transfiguration class Monday before lunch. "Professor McGonagall had us take our NE.W.T.s for all but these classes so that one of us could keep an eye on you at all times. I had O's in Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy, and DADA. Holden had all the same, except he also took Ancient Runes and History of Magic. I still ain't figured out how he did it. He's a mighty powerful wizard, Holden, doesn't ever seem to tire."

When the bell finally rang, Thomas had started out by reviewing the class. "Can anyone tell me how I can change around this table with a cat? Miss Granger, then." He nodded towards Hermione, who was practically jumping out of her seat.

"You would have to use a switching spell. Probably one of the stronger ones because of the switching of a live animal and an inanimate object." Thomas had a slight smile on his face.

"So the rumors are true. Exactly. Ten points to Gryffindor. Now, Mr. Potter, would you like to demonstrate?"

"Uh, but sir.."

"Call me Thomas."

"Right, Thomas, wouldn't I need a cat?"

"Oh, silly me, I almost forgot." Harry could tell that he had not forgotten, but had merely needed someone else to realize that he needed a cat to make his next course of action funnier. "Accio Cat," he yelled his wand pointing out of the window. A few seconds passed before Mrs. Norris came zooming in the window. "Here you are, Harry; now just do your thing."

Filch came bursting in the door about ten minutes later, and was very angry to find that his cat was as stiff as a board, while a large table was rubbing up against his leg. "Sorry about that, Mr. Filch," Thomas said brightly, as though he couldn't really have cared less. "Bring her back to me, both forms, table and cat, right after supper, and I'll fix her right up." Harry could tell Filch wanted nothing more than to give Thomas a detention, but because Thomas was a teacher, he could not. He waddled away carrying Mrs. Norris' rigid form, muttering darkly. He was followed closely by the table that now housed Mrs. Norris' mind, much to the amusement of the students.

Harry expected Defense Against the Dark Arts to be a much less pleasant experience. Holden swept into the room in a long black robe with a high collar, very much reminiscent of Snape. Only Holden was _much _more intimidating. "I am Silas Holden. I don't care what you call me as long as you do not use whatever name you give me too often. For those of you slower students, what I mean is do not ask too many questions. I might get the urge to jinx you, and I do not have the strength of character needed to fight my urges. Now, the class is Defense Against the Dark Arts. Defense Against the Dark Arts is the most important subject you can learn, especially now. This course will have five aims. Do not worry, Miss Granger. I am not Dolores Umbridge." Hermione seemed shocked that he already knew her name. "Now my five aims are as follows," he waved his wand and the aims appeared on the board. "First, to teach you some of the strongest spells known to wizards for protection . These will not only be spells for your protection, but for the protection of your homes and families."

"Second, I will be teaching you various spells that can be used in battle against Lord Voldemort and his followers." There was a collective gasp at the name. "And by the way, if I ever here one of you use the terms "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named" or "You-Know-Who" in my class, I will throw you out and not let you back in. Those titles sound stupid and childish. Defense Against the Dark Arts is about not just looking your fears in the eye; it is about looking them in the eye and then punching them in the nose. If you cannot say the name, then at least have the dignity to say "the Dark Lord."

"Now, the third aim will be to get you all at least mildly acquainted with the Dark Arts. You must know what you will be facing in battle. I myself have had several Dark curses used against me in battle. On the same subject, I will admit that I have used some myself. They can be very helpful. Yes, Miss Patil?" Harry turned around to see Parvarti with her hand in the air.

"Uh, sir, no offense or anything, but you're our age and you act like you have been fighting Dark wizards for years."

"Three years, in fact. I have been fighting the Death Eaters in America ever since Dumbledore first asked for my family's help. Most of my cousins were rather reluctant, but I signed up immediately."

"Dumbledore asked for your help when you were in fifth year?" It was Dean Thomas, one of the only other Gryffindors in the class. The rest were Ravenclaws.

"Yes. He knew my family well. They are powerful wizards, more powerful from birth than most adult wizards. Yes Mr. Boot?"

" How many Death Eaters are there in America? I mean, aren't most of them here in England."

"Yes most of them are here in England. By most estimates there are about 7,000 worldwide. There are 4,000 here in Great Britain and Ireland. France is third, with about 700. America has about 1,500. But in the area of Mississippi where Professor Shockley and I am from, there are about 600, out of only 650 wizards. So we are having some problems."

"There are only about _fifty _good wizards in your entire area?" It was another Ravenclaw Harry did not recognize.

"I would not call them _good_, per se. Most are actually Voldemort sympathizers. They just do not have the, what is the word... _testicles_? to actually join the Death Eaters. Where Thomas and I come from is filled to the bursting with the Dark Arts. And the Dark Arts are always linked to supremacist ideology. Even the Muggles hate other Muggles; only their hate is because of skin color. The Death Eaters actually based a lot of their tactics on things a group called the Ku Klux Klan did back in the 50's and 60's. They were whites that would try to intimidate blacks and their sympathizers in order to keep them from having any say in the community, nor any real political power. They, too would use torture- and even murder- to achieve their means. The Death Eaters uniforms are even loosely based on those of Klansmen."

"How terrible! I think I've heard of them." It was, of course, Hermione.

"Is it?" Holden was pacing back and forth, looking very thoughtful and brooding. "The Klansmen were merely protecting their way of life- I think that if you or I had been in the position of the white Mississippians back then, we might have done the same thing. I would have anyway."

Harry now had a question. "If you would have joined this Klan thingy, what is stopping you from joining the Death Eaters now? According to your logic, aren't they just "protecting their way of life.""

"_Touché_, Mr. Potter. Now, on to my next course aim." Harry was angered that Holden had refused to really answer his question with anything more than "Touché", not to mention he was now more suspicious than ever.

"The fourth course aim is to test your abilityin protective charms from the first of the year. You, with help from myself, the other class, and a few professors, will secure the wards of Hogwarts. They were in need of repair already, but with Voldemort alive again they will need some extra muscle. Some Aurors from the Ministry will make sure they are safe and give them their own special touch."

"Now, the final aim, and my favorite, is to prepare you for an actual battle. You will be tested on your ability to not only perform various spells, but to perform them under pressure. At the end of the year, there will be a dueling tournament within each class. As seventh years, yours will have the least restrictions. In fact, the only restriction is no Unforgivables. Do not worry, though. I will personally make sure no one is seriously injured. And their is some incentive for winning. On top of being awarded the highest marks, the winner will be given an invitation to start Auror training upon finishing their schooling, regardless of N.E.W.T. scores. Yes, Mr. Potter."

Harry could already feel the excitement welling up inside of him. He could have the chance to be an Auror, even if he did badly on N.E.W.T.s. But that was not what his question was about. "Sir, last question. You said that you had had some Dark spells used against you-"

"And you would like to know which ones." He smiled his horrible, sinister smile that made the hair on Harry's neck stand up, even though he knew that Holden meant him no harm. _For now anyway_. "Well, from what I have heard, you know of this one Mr. Potter." He threw off his cloak and took off his shirt. He was chubbier than Harry had first noticed, but his shoulders were a lot wider than his stomach. He was very muscular, and some of the girls in the class had their mouths open slightly. Across his chest was a gash that went from the tip of his right shoulder to just under his left pectoral. "_Sectumsempra, _apowerful Cutting Curse. Compliments of your _beloved _Professor Snape."

_This chapter is really an introduction into the next chapter which, just to be a jerk, I have not uploaded yet. Muwahahaha. I, Lord Malthon, now hold all the cards. You must bow to my will if you wish to see the next chapter. Review, I say!_


	7. Snapes Worst Nightmare

-1_A/N: Thank you Drama Queen04 and Cruciatus88 for their reviews. Special thanks to the Enchanted Cheesy Soybean, for all of his...uh...its reviews. And for having the greatest penname ever._

**The Heir**

**Chapter 6**

**Snape's Worst Nightmare**

"Did you see that scar?"

"Can you believe that he's fought real Dark wizards, and he's our age?"

"I bet Snape's got a few good cuts himself." The halls of Hogwarts rang with the praise for its new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Most could not believe that someone their age had fought real Dark wizards and lived to tell the tale.

"Harry's been doing that his whole life, though." It was Hermione, arguing with Ron over whether or not Holden was the most amazing wizard on the planet.

"Yeah, but Harry's never really been in the War. He's just kind of been thrown into battles and done the best he could. Holden has been on missions and stuff. I want to ask him about his battle with Snape. I bet Holden kicked his tail." Harry just sat in contemplative silence while they bickered. It was just like old times. After a minute of Hermione wondering what spells Holden had used and Ron just staring off into space dreamily, Harry spoke up.

"Why don't we go _ask _Holden about the battles he's been in." They all agreed and were joined on the way by Ginny and Gabrielle. They reached the DADA classroom to find Holden sitting in a chair by the fire, a pensieve by his side.

"Come in, come in. I was waiting for a few of my students to come ask me more questions." He was smiling his sick, twisted smile that reminded Harry so much of a young Tom Riddle. "Would you like any tea?" They all accepted, but when they drank, they automatically spit it out. Holden was laughing. "Ah, yes, I forgot. Brits do not take their tea like we do in the South. We drink it cold with as much sugar as is possible without making ourselves physically ill. Anyway, what would you like to know?"

"Well, we wanted to know about some of the battles you've been in." It was, surprisingly, Ron who spoke up.

"Particularly, the one with Snape, correct." They all nodded. "Well, I guessed those would be the questions, so I placed my memories in this pensieve. All of you gather round. Follow my lead." He placed a finger in the pensieve and a moment later, he was gone. They all followed suit, and Harry felt the now familiar sensation of falling. When they landed, they were outside a small church in a rural area.

"Welcome to Mississippi. We're only about a mile from my house. You can actually see Thomas' house from here." He pointed to a two story house in the middle of a small grove of trees. "And here I come." The Holden from the pensieve was walking up a small hill towards the church. Behind him were three others. One was Thomas. The older of the two others looked to be about nineteen or twenty. He was the definition of gangly, standing at about 6'4'', but without an ounce of muscle on him. The other looked even younger than Harry. He had shaggy brown hair that hung down in his eyes. He was stocky without being fat, but was nowhere near as big as Holden. "Cousins of mine. The skinny one is Eric. The shorter one is his brother Evan." They all looked scared to death, with the exception of Holden, who was walking casually.

They got to the church and sat at the door. The real Holden started walking up to the group and urged Harry and the others to follow. The Holden in the pensieve was putting charms on the patio outside the church that Hermione was explaining to them. "Those are to not only make the people behind them invisible, but impossible to detect." Holden nodded.

When the pensieve Holden finished he sat down beside the one named Evan and started talking to him casually. Evan looked like he was about to throw up, but Holden seemed almost bored. He was going on and on about a Quidditch game he had watched earlier that week. "I was trying to loosen him up. All three of them get so worked up." He chuckled as if it was just _crazy_ to be scared before battle. "And here come the Death Eaters." The air was ringing with pops, and all around Harry there were people in skull masks. About fifty in all covered the churches parking lot. They did not even notice Holden and the others.

"When is this Snape feller gettin' here. Suppers gonna be cold."

"Hush up, Wilkes. He's got word from the Dark Lord."

"Well, I'm gettin' hungry."

"And don't say anything while Snape's here. We don't want him to think we're a bunch of hicks." The one named Wilkes shook his head and spit out a disgusting brown liquid. The Thomas in the pensieve was laughing.

"I call dibs on Ty." Thomas said, indicating the large Death Eater named Wilkes who appeared to have a liberal amount of tobacco in his bottom lip. A few moments passed with the Mississippian Death Eaters waiting in a large circle. They were having casual conversations about everything from Quidditch to hunting. The one called Ty was talking about seeing a big Chimera on his property. Hermione snorted.

"Do they really believe that there's a Chimera _here_?"

"Yes, because there are Chimeras here. I have seen a few myself. No one outside of Mississippi believes they are here. They just think that we are a bunch of ignorant hicks that enjoy making up stories to make ourselves seem more important. That is why you do not see it mentioned in your books on magical creatures."

"But-" Holden merely gave her a look that told her she was not going to prove him wrong, and she got quiet.

"And here comes Snape." A man with greasy black hair was walking up the hill that Holden and his unit had come up. He had three Death Eaters flanking him.

"Mr. Snape. It is an honor to meet the Dark Lord's most beloved follower." The one that had told Ty Wilkes to keep his mouth shut was speaking in his courtly accent. "My name is Stringer. Now, if you would be kind enough to tell us of what it is the Dark Lord needs."

Snape and the three Death Eaters flanking him moved to the center of the group. He turned to look at all the Death Eaters in turn. "I think you all know why I am here. There is one that is breaking up the Dark Lord's plans. One that is a large thorn in the side of the Dark Lord. He must be annihilated. You know of whom I speak."

"And what are we supposed to do? Don't you know if we coulda' killed him we woulda'? He's a pain in our side, too!" It was the one named Ty Wilkes. From somewhere to his right, someone muttered "Crucio!" and he fell to the cement, twitching and writhing.

"You must forgive my brother Mr. Snape. He is young and does not know when to hold his tongue." The Death Eater that spoke had wild eyes beneath his mask, though he spoke in a normal voice.

"Mr. Jeremiah Wilkes, I presume." The Death Eater nodded.. " The Dark Lord considers you one of his _favorite _followers. I understand you hold the record for Muggles killed?"

"The count stands at 987. Destroyed every one of those Muggle department stores within a 100 mile radius. Of course, I enjoy torture more than killing." This was already obvious to the entire group, and they shifted uncomfortably.

"Don't we all. You may release your brother." He followed the command a little reluctantly. "How could someone enjoy torturing their brother this much?" Harry wondered silently. He shuddered at the thought.

"The Dark Lord has asked me to present you with this assignment. Kill the Heir. Use all of the Death Eaters at your command. Do whatever it takes. That is all." The Heir? Harry had been sure they were talking about him. What was he the Heir to? And then it hit him- Dumbledore. He was the heir to the work Dumbledore had started.

Before Harry had time to finish his thoughts, pensieve Holden and pensieve Thomas had jumped out from their hiding spot. Their two compatriots followed suit quickly. "Kill them now," yelled Snape. His voice held no fear, but his face was wide with shock. None of the Death Eaters heeded his command, however. Ty jumped off the ground, where he had been nursing his wounds, and started to run but was caught from behind by his brother, who looked livid. Many of the more intelligent Death Eaters decided to Disapparate rather than run. Only about twenty remained, and most of them seemed like they were just too scared to move. Jeremiah Wilkes, however, immediately stepped forward.

"Crucio!" His voice rang out against the stunned silence. He hit Holden square in the chest. Nothing happened. "Crucio! Crucio! Crucio! Why won't it work?" The Holden laughed.

"I am much too powerful for you, Wilkes." The other three took this as cue to start the battle. They started firing off curses at every Death Eater in sight. Thomas started with a simple "Expelliarmus", then followed with Binding Jinxes. The two brothers Eric and Evan were firing off jinxes in tandem, mainly Binding, adding anti-Apparition charms. Harry was impressed; they were using simple but effective spells against the Death Eaters, and were doing well. Then he saw Holden. Holden was muttering some incantation under his breath with his wand pointed to the sky. He seemed to crackle with energy. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning stuck the ground in front of Snape. He and his entourage were thrown high into the air. When they landed, only Snape was alive.

"That one on the left was McNair. The one on the right was Rodolphus Lestrange. I think you have heard of them. The other one, the one in the middle, was a wizard named Art Collsworm. From Ireland." Harry watched, horrified, as Holden casually cast Avada Kedavra, the Killing Curse, at all the live Death Eaters that the others had not already rounded up. He walked toward Snape, who was sprawled on the ground, bleeding. Snape saw Holden coming, and smiled.

"Sectumsempra!" A large gash appeared on Holden's shirt. Holden fell to his knees, blood gushing everywhere. He was paling quickly. "Just as I thought. You used a protection charm. A very powerful protection charm- but you only protected yourself against the Cruciatus Curse, which seems to be a favorite here in Mississippi." Snape mustered all of his energy and stood over Holden's bleeding form. "But you never expected another of the Dark curses." He smiled cruelly. Then Holden smiled his sinister smile. He drew his wand across his chest, and the bleeding stopped. He raised his wand to Snape

"Crucio!" Snape then fell to his knees, then could not even hold himself up on like that, and started writhing on the ground, screaming and flailing. "You are right. We are partial to the Cruciatus Curse around here." He was smiling coldly. Harry shivered at the sight. He looked over to see Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had their mouths open slightly. Gabrielle was holding on to the back of the real Holden's cloak, covering her eyes. They had had little experience in battle, so the sight of seeing so many dead and one being tortured, even though they were evil people, was almost too much for them to take. There were silent tears streaming down Ginny's face.

Thomas in the pensieve seemed horrified at what he was seeing. "Holden, that's enough." Holden ignored him. His face was contorted in his sick smile. "I said that's ENOUGH!" Harry was shocked at the normally goofy Thomas' anger. Power radiated off his roommate. Holden merely looked at him. Thomas sighed and raised his wand and muttered sadly "Expelliarmus." Holden's wand flew into his hand. Snape took a great shuddering breath, and disappeared with a small pop.

"What do you think you are doing!" yelled Holden. "You just let the Dark Lord's most faithful follower get away!"

"Holden, you can't just torture someone without reason! You-" But Thomas' words faded as Harry and the others found themselves in Holden's office.

"Not so excited about war, are we now?" No one said anything. Thomas was pacing again, looking at them calculatingly. "You see what you have to be willing to do to be a good soldier." Hermione and Ginny were crying, and Ron was shaking all over. Holden looked irate. "You three are supposed to be members of The Order of the Phoenix! You must get accustomed to seeing those spells used all the time from now on! You cannot break down like this on the battlefield!" Gabrielle, who Harry, and obviously Holden, had forgotten was there, cried a great, shuddering sob. A strange emotion- could it have been pity?- crossed his face. "I am so sorry Gabrielle. I should not have reacted like that. You have not been through all I have, nor should you have to." He, to Harry's amazement, placed a loving arm around Gabrielle. She smiled at the touch. "You should go to bed before curfew. Oh, and Harry." Harry stopped just short of the door. "Your training starts Saturday at 6:00. Right after supper. Goodnight, all."

The five walked silently towards Gryffindor Tower, all looking gloomy. Finally Ginny spoke up. "You know what was the worst about all that?" No one answered her question. "I actually enjoyed watching him do that to Snape. Somewhere deep inside of me, it seemed- I don't know- fitting. And that scares the crap out of me."

Harry shuddered. He had had almost the exact same thought, and the others must have too, because they were nodding, with the exception of Gabrielle, who was still smiling slightly. In his darkest regions, he felt like Snape deserved what he got. He shuddered again. He did not want to go down that road. He did not want to become what he saw in that pensieve.

_Okay, I have done my part. I wrote the darn thing. Now, you, the reader, must do your part and review. I have watched you read this story (yes I am omnipotent. Deal with it. I even saw you that time...well, I won't embarrass you like that on the Internet. But I was there.), and I will know if you don't review. So click the button and type something. I'm not picky. Tell me my story sucks. Tell me you think I'm ugly. Tell me I misspelled _"I." _I don't care. Just click that little button and spend all of fifteen seconds reviewing._


	8. Quidditch

_A/N: I do not own Harry Potter. Thanks, Treck, for your review. I believe this is the longest chapter so far, though the next two are even longer. _

**The Heir**

**Chapter 7**

**Quidditch**

Harry decided to set up Quidditch tryouts for Friday. The only player they would be losing was Katie. She would be a lot of trouble replacing. There were twenty people there to try out when Friday came, but it seemed the whole of Gryffindor House was there to watch the proceedings. Harry split them up into teams of five and had them run drills. Harry watched as no one from the first two teams could complete a pass. The third team completed one, before one of their players got hit with a bludger and two of their others fell off their brooms in shock.

The fourth team was made up of four shaky second and third years _and Thomas_. He did well. Very well. He caught a rather wobbly pass that had been thrown behind his back, dodged two well aimed bludgers from Beaters Coote and Peakes, and dodged Ginny, who was playing defense, by doing a sloth roll and going underneath her. He faked Ron out by acting like he was going to his left, then his right, then spinning around and scoring, while looking in the _opposite direction_. "Now that's impressive," remarked Demelza Robins. Harry had to agree.

"Alright, lineups will be posted tomorrow. The first practice will be Monday. Good luck to all of you." The word in the stands seemed to echo Harry's thoughts.

"Did you _see _that?"

"I've been to professional games all my life, and I've never seen a goal shot backwards."

"They might as well give us the cup. We've got the best seeker in Hogwarts' history and two chasers that could go on to play for England tomorrow." Harry smiled at the voices. They were absolutely right. This year, the Cup had their name on it.

"Hey, Harry." It was Thomas. "I don't think I played too shabby. What do you think?" A small amount of sweat was dripping from his forehead, though this was the only sign that he was tired at all.

"To be honest Thomas, that was the best playing I've ever seen. I'm still trying to figure out how you made that goal."

"Just a little trick I was able to pick up from Holden. He's playing chaser for Slytherin this year. They had their tryouts yesterday." Harry's heart sank into his stomach.

"Hol-Holden? He plays Quidditch?"

"Oh, yeah, he's awesome. He beat his own record for goals scored in a game at Marleaux last year. Thirty-seven, can you believe it?" He was smiling, but Harry felt like he was going to vomit. And so he did

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"Thirty-seven? That's impossible. How long was the game?"

"An hour and a half. His team won 540 to zero." Ron cursed loudly. The entire Gryffindor common room was shaking its head. That seemed impossible. "Our only hope is that every team they play can catch the snitch before he gets the score up too high." Everyone was silent. Thomas was shocked that Quidditch was this important to them.

"Come on, people. We're in the middle of a war. Don't you have something better to think about than Quidditch?" Everyone just kind of sat there, looking gloomy. "Anyway, Harry, it's late. I'm going to bed and you should follow." He leaned in close. "Slytherin is having their first practice at 8 o' clock, tomorrow morning. We should go watch."

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Harry, Thomas, and Ron awoke at 7:15 the next morning. They met Hermione, Ginny, and Gabrielle for an early breakfast. They got to the Great Hall to find that they were alone except for, of course, the Slytherin Quidditch team. They were donned in their green Quidditch robes, looking as menacing as ever. Holden saw them sit down, and walked over, taking a seat beside Gabrielle.

"Come to watch the team that is going to win the Quidditch Cup?" His smirk had its usual sinister quality. "I guess Thomas has told you of some of our Quidditch exploits." No one answered him. "Do you play Quidditch?" he asked Gabrielle conversationally.

"No, I never 'ave bin very good." She seemed kind of lost for words. Harry wondered briefly who was supposed to be the Veela, Holden or Gabrielle. Gabrielle was usually a pretty outgoing person, but when Holden was around she clammed up. "She's probably intimidated," Harry told himself silently.

"Well that never stopped Thomas from playing," he laughed darkly. "Well, I guess I will see you all on the pitch." He jogged off to where the rest of the team was retreating through the door.

Thomas was the first to rise from the table. "Let's go. Ron, bring the toast. And the bacon. And the eggs, no, fine, I'll take the eggs." Harry laughed at Thomas' antics. He was always good for a laugh. Just like Holden was always good for a scare.

They reached the Quidditch pitch as the Captain, Urquhart, led the team in the usual pre-practice warm-ups. Holden went through all the drills with ease, but there was nothing really impressive about him. Uruqhart split the teams into a three-on-three match up, with two chasers and a keeper and himself playing referee. Holden lined up in the center, Crabbe behind him and Goyle playing Keeper. He was lined up against Vaisey, who was on a team with Harper, the Seeker who had replaced Malfoy, and a thin fourth year named Alexander Kapp who played Keeper. Uruqhart threw the ball into the air in between Vaisey and Holden. What happened next could only be described, well, as magic.

Holden flew up after the Quaffle and slammed it with his hands, as one would a volleyball, amazing considering the density of the Quaffle. The Quaffle flew into the air, over the heads of all the other players. Holden hesitated a moment or two, and then took off. He stopped about fifteen meters away from the hoop and stopped. The Quaffle landed perfectly in his chest. He forced his broom to roll forward, which Harry had never seen done before, and when he was right-side up, with all of that force behind him, threw the Quaffle with all his might towards the center hoop. It was comparable to the technique one would use when throwing a shot-put, spinning to concentrate all of your energy. Kapp was waiting for it, but it had so much power behind it that when the Quaffle hit him squarely in the chest, it forced _him _to go through the center hoop with it. Beside Harry, Ron gulped. Hermione put an arm around him for support. Thomas was smiling and humming to himself, oblivious to the outside world.

Uruqhart blew his whistle and they lined up in the same formation as before. He threw the Quaffle into the air. This time, Holden let it fall into Vaisey's hands. The moment Vaisey touched it, however, he was knocked off his broom by, who else, Holden. Holden caught the Quaffle with his left hand and pointed his wand at Vaisey with his right, yelling "Wingardium leviosa." He gently placed Vaisey on the ground while making a pass to Crabbe over his shoulder without looking. Crabbe, amazingly, caught it and started down the pitch. Once Vaisey was safely on the ground, Holden took off. He pushed Harper out of his way and motioned for Crabbe to throw him the Quaffle. He caught it and threw it, one handed, through the left hoop. Kapp never even saw it coming. Uruqhart blew his whistle again. He was smiling widely. This was the best team Slytherin had put together in years, even without Holden; with Holden, they would have a pretty good shot in a game against England.

"Alright, Holden, we'll give you a challenge; how does six on one sound?"

"I thought you said you were giving me a challenge?" The Slytherins guffawed appreciatively, which was odd, since he was making fun of them. Thomas laughed loudly with them. He had somehow acquired popcorn, God only knows from where, and was acting like a five year old watching a good movie.

Kaisey was lined up at Chaser again, but Crabbe and Goyle had retrieved their bats, and looked ready to kill. Uruqhart threw the Quaffle high in the air. Holden zoomed up and caught it. He evaded Kaisey, stiff-armed Harper in the chest, did a sloth roll under Uruqhart, dodged bludgers sent by Crabbe and Goyle, and got the Quaffle past Kapp. It had taken all of seven seconds for him to get by an entire team.

As the Slytherins walked by Harry and the others, they did not make any rude comments or hand gestures, as they would have normally. They just looked at them and bust out laughing. This was going to be a rough year.

Holden caught up with the rest. He was barely sweating, even though he had just gone through an hour of Quidditch practice. He was smiling and slightly out of breath. "So, what do you think?" Harry, Ron, and Ginny jus cast him dark looks, but Gabrielle spoke up.

"Where deed you learn to fly like t'at?"

"Mississippi is known for producing good athletes. I just happen to be one of the better ones." Gabrielle snorted. Holden laughed. "Are you finished with that essay on Binding Jinxes?"

"Oh, yes, eet was _too _easy." They shared another laugh.

"Gabrielle here is the best student in her year. I believe she might eventually even surpass you Potter." Harry nodded, not really listening. He was too busy trying to find a hex to put on Holden. One that lasted just long enough for him to be out for the rest of the Quidditch season. "Speaking of which, Potter, our lessons began at six, do not forget."

He walked back in the other direction towards the locker room. Ginny must have sensed Harry's anger, for she placed a loving hand on his back and leaned in close to whisper "Don't worry, Harry. I'll make sure to knock him off his broom." Harry had to smile at her words.

The rest of Harry's day was spent with Ron, Ginny, and Thomas, going over Quidditch plays, trying to figure out someway that they would be able to stop Holden in their first game of the season. Every plan they had, however, was thwarted by Thomas.

Ron had first suggested double-teaming Holden, but Thomas had shot that down. "They tried that back in third year. He just broke through the double teams. Scored eighteen goals in a 45-minute game." Ginny had then suggested triple teaming. "Well, when they did that two years ago it _kind of _worked. He only scored five goals. _But _he had twenty-seven assists. Another school record." Harry had suggested just putting the beaters in his way, like using them as extra chasers. "Fifth year. The biggest game of the season against Trippleton, the rival school in Tennessee. Our beaters didn't have to worry about blocking hits from the other teams beaters. Knocked out two of the chasers, both beaters, and the seeker. And Holden still scored six times and had eight assists."

"Good god, Thomas, has anyone been able to stop him?"

"Him, yes, but that's the thing about Holden. He's amazing, and he realizes he's amazing, but when he gets in the game, he is not a ball hog. Anyway, we ought to go see Holden before supper. Retard. Assigned essays to all of his classes, and now he has to grade 'em. He told me he would be busy all the way till supper. Probably past. I figure we should go help him, Harry, if you're going to do these extra lessons."

On the inside, Harry groaned, but agreed. Hermione volunteered herself and Ron to help as well. "Why didn't he just use a grading charm? That's what the rest of the teachers do," Ginny asked. Thomas' eyebrows furrowed.

"I don't know. I kinda wondered the same thing." They walked on towards Holden's office, talking of Quidditch and classes. When they got close, however, something made them all stop in their tracks.

Their was music coming from down the hall. Harry had never heard anything like it. It had a hint of Mexican flavor, but was mostly like the music Harry had heard was called "country." Thomas' eyes were wide in shock. He exchanged a bewildered glance with Harry. He, apparently, did not know what was going on either. The group slowly crept forward, and as they did, the words came through loud and clear:

_I don't want to be the kind to hesitate,  
Be too shy, wait too late  
I don't care what they say other lovers do,  
I just want to dance with you._

I gotta feeling that you have a heart like mine,  
So let it show, let it shine.  
If we have a chance to make one heart of two,  
I just want to dance with you.

_  
_Ginny grabbed Harry and they started to dance, laughing at how stupid this song was. How anyone could actually listen to this was beyond him. Ron's mouth was hanging open slightly. Hermione was trying to suppress the giggles that were causing her to shake slightly. Thomas was not trying to suppress anything. He was laughing his head off, rolling all over the floor.

_  
I want to dance with you, twirl you all around the floor  
That's what they intended dancin' for,  
I just want to dance with you.  
I want to dance with you, hold you in my arms once more,  
That's what they invented dancin' for,  
I just want to dance with you._

_  
_Thomas got to his feet and slowly tiptoed toward the open door. He peeked into the classroom and jumped back immediately. He slumped up against the wall in another silent fit of laughter. He motioned for Harry and the others to come towards him.

_  
I caught you lookin' at me when I looked at you,  
Yes I did, ain't that true?  
You won't get embarrassed by the things I do,  
I just want to dance with you.  
_He pointed towards the door and mouthed "Holden's busy, alright." Harry looked into the open doorway. He would never forget what he saw.

_  
Oh the boys are playin' softly and the girls are too,  
So am I and so are you.  
If this was a movie, we'd be right on cue,  
I just want to dance with you._

_  
_Holden, hunter of Dark wizards, torturer of Snape, the second-scariest man on the planet, was _dancing _with Gabrielle Delacour. Beside him Ginny was in a fit of giggles. She grabbed his hand and they walked off to supper, the others following behind, either shocked or laughing. Thomas was muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "blackmail."

_  
I want to dance with you, twirl you all around the floor  
That's what they intended dancin' for,  
I just want to dance with you.  
I want to dance with you, hold you in my arms once more,  
That's what they invented dancin' for,  
I just want to dance with you._

I just want to dance with you,  
I just want to dance with you,  
I just want to dance with you.  
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_Now review. If you can hear the sound of my voice, go away. Then review._


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